Of Mice and Men
by Kodiak Bear Country
Summary: Complete While the crew succumbs to a virulent contagion, a recent away mission comes back to haunt the Enterprise.
1. Bad News

Chapter 1 Bad News  
  
Beep. Beep.  
  
Through the fogginess of sleep the annoying noise began to do it's intended task of waking the occupant.  
  
Captain Archer rolled onto his back, bringing a hand up to his forehead and scrubbing his hair roughly, in a desperate attempt at alertness. He dropped his other hand onto the comm. switch.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I'm sorry to wake you Captain, but I need to see you in sickbay right away." The overly cheerful voice of the good doctor floated through the speakers.  
  
Archer debated asking if this could wait till morning but as his mind wound up to operational status it occurred to him that the 'right away' probably meant it was important. That and the fact that Dr. Phlox had woken him up from a dead sleep. Sleep he had prescribed for the entire away team. It had been a mission with one misstep after another and resulting in a lack of rest for almost 72 hours straight.  
  
"Ah, Captain?" Phlox enquired.  
  
Groaning, Archer pushed his lanky frame up against the headrest, "Yeah Phlox, I'll be right there."  
  
He gave the comm. button a punch and reluctantly tossed the covers to the side. Crap.  
  
Archer strode into sickbay, the doors politely swishing shut behind him. He scanned the room and noticed three of the beds bore occupants. Cutler, Robbins and Sweet. He didn't have a medical degree but they looked miserable. Cutler was clutching a basin, Robbins was huddled underneath a blanket and Sweet was gripping the edges of the biobed, his face pallid and clammy. Archer took a step back, inwardly cringing. He didn't do sick.  
  
"I wouldn't worry Captain...I'm afraid the damage is all ready done." Phlox appeared around a screen. His usual smile crooking the edges of his mouth upward.  
  
"Damage?" Archer maintained his distance.  
  
Phlox sighed. He had been dreading this moment from the time he realized what had happened. He waved Captain Archer to the other side of the room, away from the ill crewmen. He mentally noted Archer's fatigue-lined face and rumpled appearance. "I'm afraid we've got a bit of a situation Captain."  
  
"Spit it out Phlox, what's going on?" Archer leaned against an empty biobed.  
  
"Do you recall the shipment we picked up on Relas V?" Phlox asked.  
  
Archer did recall, vividly. Phlox had requested a small menagerie of herbs, animals and other assorted supplies. Restocking his stores he had explained. T'Pol had located the majority of the items on a small trading planet within a days travel at warp 3, Relas V. That had been five days ago, before the disastrous away mission.  
  
"I remember." He replied.  
  
Phlox tugged at his collar, "ummm, it appears that the Venissian mice carried a virus onboard."  
  
"What?" Archer stood up straight, "Don't we have procedures to prevent this?"  
  
"Well, yes...but Captain, nothing is perfect. I'm afraid the mice were in the early stages of the virus. It was virtually undetectable." Phlox wished he was undetectable at this moment. Captain Archer had fixed him with a glare that would wilt mountains.  
  
"Am I to assume this is why three of my crewmen are...gracing...your sickbay?"  
  
Denobulans were a hard race to rattle but Captain Archer could be an intimidating man when he was upset. Phlox rather wished that he had gotten more sleep before having to drop this on him. At the very least he would've been more tolerant...he hoped.  
  
"I'm afraid so."  
  
Archer stood up and began pacing, his mind processing the information and considering implications. Ship wide contagions were a nightmare. At the least they could be an annoying setback, at the worst they could decimate an entire crew. He assumed from Phlox's guilty demeanor that this would be the annoying category. He wasn't behaving as if death was around the corner.  
  
"What do we need to do?" 


	2. Strategy

Chapter 2 Strategy  
  
"What's going on Cap'n?" Commander Tucker asked, slightly confused. He had been summoned, along with the rest of the command crew, to the command center at 0300 hours. T'Pol, Phlox, Reed and the Captain were standing in various positions around the command console. Trip had been the last to arrive having stopped at Engineering to check on the progress Delta shift was making on realigning the sensors. He figured if he had to be up he might as well use the time wisely.  
  
"Nice of you to join us Trip." Archer smiled. "Apparently we have a bit of a situation on board."  
  
Trip glanced from Reed's tight-lipped expression to Phlox's uneasy stance. Archer appeared mildly irritated, and T'Pol was as poker-faced as usual.  
  
"Now that we are all here, let's get started. You may be wondering why the command staff is meeting at this hour. I'll let Phlox fill you in since this is more his area of expertise than mine." Archer gestured for Phlox to begin.  
  
Phlox straightened his shoulders guessing the best way to handle this briefing was to plunge in.  
  
"It would seem that we have a contagion on board. Unwittingly brought in with my venissian mice last week." He emphasized unwitting and noticed Archer muffle an undignified snort.  
  
"How contagious is this thing Doc?" Trip asked, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.  
  
T'Pol stepped forward, her hands clasped behind her slim back, "Very commander, the incubation period is approximately 48-72 hours, in which time any person that comes in contact with the infected individual becomes a carrier themselves for the virus. By the time symptoms begin, that person has infected countless others."  
  
"The Sub-Commander is correct. This virus is highly contagious. The good news..." Phlox smiled wide, "...is the virus is...well...relatively...harmless."  
  
"Relatively?" Reed muttered.  
  
"What kind of relatively are we talking here, Doctor?" Archer interrupted. He was exhausted. The sooner the command staff dealt with this issue, the sooner he could collapse back in his nice soft bed.  
  
"Chills, fever, nausea, vomiting, dizziness, fatigue...the standard viral symptoms. Occasionally sore throat and cough. Nothing my medicine cabinet won't treat I assure you Captain." He grinned.  
  
Reed groaned. "How long does this virus last Doctor?"  
  
Phlox's happiness deflated before their eyes, "That is the bad news."  
  
"Phlox..." Archer warned.  
  
"Yes, yes...typical duration is 5-7 days." He fidgeted with his sleeves.  
  
Trip's eyes bulged, "Days!"  
  
"It's not that bad, a bit of rest will do the crew good." Phlox defended his bad news.  
  
"Doc, being laid up in bed with a virus is not how I'd like to spend my time off." Trip replied.  
  
"Commander, while I'm certain the rest of the crew shares your sentiments, there is little to be done at this point. We must focus on minimizing the spread of the virus." T'Pol stated.  
  
Phlox seemed to regain some of us earlier joviality, "Ah, yes, the Sub- Commander makes an excellent point. I've all ready begun a list of crewmembers known to be immune, T'Pol and myself included. Captain, I have plans in place for such an emergency as this, all we must do is put the plans in action." He smiled confidently.  
  
"Oh that's great, why are you guys immune? Are any humans immune?" Trip sniped. He hated being sick. He knew he was being snarky but tiredness had sapped his self-control, and he wasn't exactly known for tact on a good day.  
  
Archer inwardly seconded Trip's question and state of mind. He turned to Phlox waiting for his reply.  
  
"Actually Commander, there are humans aboard Enterprise that are immune. Granted, not very many, Ensign Mayweather is one of them. There is a common virus that is very close to Venissian Flu, called Tritox, the two viruses are close enough that once the body has an immunity to one, through prior infection, they become immune to the other. The majority of those who have been traveling about space in the past will have immunity to Venissian Flu. It's quite similar to the behavior of a childhood disease back on Earth, chicken pox I believe it was called."  
  
"How many Doctor?" Archer grated. He knew he wasn't one of them and that irritated him more than he was willing to admit.  
  
"Ten Captain, the three we've discussed and seven others. We should be able to handle the workload, combined with the staggered infection rate of the crew. Once the initial victims recover they can begin helping."  
  
Archer grimaced at the word victims.  
  
"All right Doctor, you know what to do. Get working on it and I..."  
  
"You'll get back to bed, as will the rest of you except T'Pol. You'll be more susceptible to this virus if you do not get some sleep." Phlox said.  
  
Archer was too tired to argue. "Fine. Keep me updated, dismissed." 


	3. Complications

Chapter 3 Complications  
  
Buzz. Buzz.  
  
Archer bit back a groan and buried his head under the pillow, pulling at the edges with both hands. He clung to the desperate hope that whomever was waiting on the other side would give up and leave him in peace.  
  
Buzz. Buzz.  
  
Frustrated, the captain rolled out of bed, covers and pillow sliding to the floor in a lump of cotton.  
  
"What...do...you...want?" He bit out, lunging for the door switch.  
  
The door slid open to reveal a slightly alarmed T'Pol.  
  
"I apologize for waking you Captain, but your presence is required in the landing bay."  
  
Archer couldn't stop from rubbing his face briskly with his hands. His eyes felt gritty, his five o'clock shadow was growing it's own shadow. He hadn't gotten more than a few hours of sleep in almost four days.  
  
"Sub-Commander, if this is anything less than life or death, I'm putting you on report."  
  
T'Pol fixed her Captain with a wary look. Humans were complicated. Every time she thought she was beginning to understand their myriad of idiosyncrasies, they did something else unpredictable. Not for the first time she longed for the even-keeled presence of other Vulcan's.  
  
"Captain, the mere fact that I have woken you against doctor's orders should indicate the matter is of sufficient importance." She stated.  
  
"Right." Archer turned back and gave a longing look at his swiftly cooling bed. "Let me put something more...appropriate on." He shot her a wry look, as they both became aware of his attire, or lack of, to be more specific. He had been to tired to bother changing, opting to sleep in his undergarments of tight blue shorts and shirt.  
  
"I'll inform Lieutenant Reed you shall be joining us shortly."  
  
"You do that...and T'Pol?"  
  
"Yes Captain?"  
  
"I wouldn't really put you on report."  
  
"I am aware."  
  
The door slid shut, leaving a slightly bemused Archer staring at gray metal where her face had been moments before.  
  
Archer found himself in the landing bay ten minutes later. Reed and T'Pol were gathered around shuttlepod two. The same shuttlepod they had used on their recent away mission. Distaste flashed across his features as memories resurfaced of their experience at the hands of the Taltaxins.  
  
Lieutenant Reed turned as he became aware of Archer's presence. His lips tightened into a grim acknowledgement.  
  
"I'm afraid we've got a bit of a problem Captain." He said.  
  
Archer was getting tired of hearing those words coming from his staff.  
  
"Not another one." He thought.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Nothing Malcolm." Archer realized he must have spoken aloud. Fatigue did that to a person. "What's wrong?"  
  
T'Pol stepped towards the hatch, "It appears someone was recently in the pod Captain."  
  
Archer's brow furrowed, "A stowaway?"  
  
The three entered the pod and Archer followed T'Pol and Reed to the rear storage cabinet. Reed pulled the cabinet open and moved to the side for Captain Archer to see for himself. One of the EVA suits was shoved sloppily in.  
  
"Isn't it possible turbulence caused the suit to shift around?"  
  
"Not likely Sir, and also, look at this." Reed pointed to the oxygen levels. The display indicated the tank had 40% remaining.  
  
"I see." And he did. The suits were always charged and ready before every away mission. None of the crew had used these suits on the recent mission.  
  
"Why didn't sensors detect our...passenger...when we docked?" Archer asked.  
  
"Unfortunately, sensors experienced a systems failure immediately prior to our arrival. Commander Tucker had them back online shortly thereafter, but as you are aware, they were undergoing realignment." T'Pol informed him.  
  
"Well, what do they show now?" He demanded.  
  
T'Pol shifted uncomfortably. Reed found an interesting spot to examine on the decking.  
  
"What?" Archer's impatience was growing exponentially.  
  
"Sir, internal sensors are now experiencing systems failure. Commander Tucker is working on it." Reed answered, cringing at the Captain's growing ire.  
  
Archer mentally counted to ten. "Does anyone else find it odd that the sensors failed in both instances when it would have identified a hitch- hiking life form?"  
  
"Hitch-hiking?" T'Pol puzzled.  
  
Archer glared.  
  
T'Pol decided to ask one of the crew later. "Captain, it is logical to assume that the failures are not coincidences." T'Pol replied. She was aware that Captain Archer's mental state was suffering from lack of rest. She understood that humans required more rest to remain functioning well. The Captain's irritability was a direct product of his lack of rest.  
  
"Malcolm, conduct a ship-wide search. Use hand scanners, surely they can't be malfunctioning as well. Alert the crew quietly; I would prefer this...whatever it is...not know we are onto it."  
  
Reed straightened, "Yes Sir!"  
  
"T'Pol, come with me." 


	4. We've Got Problems

Chapter 4 We've got problems  
  
T'Pol and Captain Archer entered engineering only to find chaos erupting around them. Crewmen were dashing about, running up ladders, sprinting down deck, and tossing tools back and forth as if they were in a rugby tournament. In the midst of the intricate dance, Commander Charles 'Trip' Tucker issued orders in true Napoleonic fashion.  
  
"Ensign, bypass that circuit before we're all fried!" Tucker swore. "Not that circuit, THIS one!" He punched a read-out with his finger.  
  
A crewman barreled by Archer who jumped back, plowing into T'Pol, scarcely avoiding being knocked on his ass. T'Pol gave Archer a firm push forward, righting him on his feet.  
  
Archer gaped at the activity before him, "Commander, what the hell is going on?"  
  
Tucker turned surprised, "Cap'n! You probably should step to the side Sir, before you get caught in the crossfire."  
  
T'Pol moved to the side, tugging Archer along with her, questioning the scene with her eyes.  
  
"Explain Commander." Archer gritted with clenched teeth, his jawbones working beneath the skin, a visible sign to Trip that the night hadn't gone any better for the Captain.  
  
"Sorry Sir, we've had a bit of a malfunction..." he broke off in response to Archer's groan. "What?"  
  
"This isn't the first malfunction I've dealt with tonight Trip. Just...tell me, is it serious?"  
  
Trip sighed, "No Sir, more of a nuisance really. Gravity fluctuations, doors opening and closing for no reason, reports are flooding engineering. Here alone we've had systems going on and off. Nothing major, but something's up Cap'n. I was going to call you..."  
  
"I have informed the Captain about the sensors Commander, I wasn't aware other systems were...malfunctioning." T'Pol said, sparing a glance at the sparks flying from a panel behind Commander Tucker.  
  
"It started about an hour ago. I got called because my delta shift engineer landed in sickbay with that venissian flu thing." Trip scowled, "It's not looking good Sir, half my crew is sick and the ship seems to be falling apart."  
  
"Do you require assistance, Commander?" T'Pol asked.  
  
"Not yet, but if our staff continues to be depleted at the rate it is...well, that's another matter. Captain, we've been back for almost 12 hours, time's running out before we get sick."  
  
Archer didn't need the reminder. Twelve hours. It felt like days. He could feel the time ticking away like a bomb ready to explode.  
  
"Trip, we've got more problems than this."  
  
Archer proceeded to brief Tucker on the supposed stowaway. His look of disbelief matched how Archer had felt earlier.  
  
"Do you think it's...you know?" He asked.  
  
"It would make sense. Ironic isn't it, after all we went through on that damn planet, and it was with us all the time. The Prime Minister was right."  
  
T'Pol leaned forward, "Captain, your report specified the conspirators aided your escape...perhaps they had ulterior motives?"  
  
Archer studied T'Pol, contemplating her train of thought. "You think they knew it was aboard?"  
  
Tucker gestured, "Makes sense Cap'n. What better way to ensure it was safe?"  
  
"T'Pol, do you know of any being that is capable of disrupting systems in this manner?" Archer enquired, considering what could be causing the phenomena Enterprise was experiencing. "Some kind of bio-energy?"  
  
T'Pol did a mental check, "I've never heard of a species causing this. I could check the database and see if there have been references in the past."  
  
"Do it, quickly. I don't think I need to remind you time is running out." Archer ordered.  
  
Trip spared a glance back; the atmosphere more subdued, crewmen worked at a frenetic pace, but with a calmer demeanor. "We've got it under control, for now. Until next time." He muttered.  
  
"Good, keep me updated. I'm going to see how Phlox is doing and then try and get some sleep. Trip, I wish I could tell you to do the same but..."  
  
"I know Captain." Trip interrupted.  
  
"All the same, once you think things are calm enough I want you to try and get some rest. You heard the Doctor, we'll only catch this faster if we're worn out." Archer said. A tight smile flitted briefly across his face at the thought of another lecture from the portly Phlox.  
  
"Will do. We'll keep an eye out for our mystery visitor." 


	5. No Luck, No Answers

Chapter 5 No Luck, No Answers  
  
Captain Jonathon Archer returned to his quarters at 0500 hours. _What's the point_, he thought. Forgoing the bed, he walked towards his desk, turning towards the soft whine.  
  
"Porthos! Probably hungry, aren't you boy?"  
  
He quickly filled the dishes and set Porthos's food near his boxy tan bed. _A dog's life couldn't get much easier_, Archer mused, finding himself wishing that for one day he could switch places. One day, where the only responsibility was to sleep and eat.  
  
He dropped himself into his chair, fatigue sapping him of the ability to maintain decent posture. Punching a button on the display, _not much longer_, he told himself.  
  
"Captain's log..."  
  
Trip strode through the halls on D deck, heading towards the turbolift. After working through the night he felt the systems were stable, allowing him to escape for a quick breakfast.  
  
"You look like hell, Commander." Reed said, coming alongside Trip.  
  
Trip turned, startled, "Malcolm." He greeted, taking in the armory officer's appearance. He didn't look any better than Trip felt. "You're one to talk. Been up all night?"  
  
"Despite my best efforts otherwise, yes. We've scanned the entire ship and haven't found a thing." Reed was disgusted. He was the ships tactical officer and he couldn't manage to find one intruder.  
  
"Don't let it get to you Loo-tenant." Tucker drawled, similar to the earlier days, evoking a grin from Reed.  
  
Tucker changed topics fluidly, "So...any symptoms of venissian flu?"  
  
Reed snorted, "Not likely, we've only been back for less than a day. Didn't Phlox say the incubation period was 48-72 hours?"  
  
"I know...but aren't you jumping at every little ache or sneeze? I'm checking over my bodily functions as much as the ships. Every little twinge makes me panic. I'm turning into a hypochondriac waiting for this damn bug to hit." Tucker said.  
  
"I suppose I've been to focused on finding the intruder to think about it. Who knows, maybe you won't catch it?" Reed replied.  
  
Their conversation interrupted by the arrival of the lift, depositing a pale crewman, who proceeded to shuffle past the two gaping officers.  
  
Trip reached out a hand to grab the crewman, but aborted the maneuver as he thought better about contact, opting instead to call out, "Crewman, are you all right?"  
  
The crewman jerked his head in acknowledgement, but then gurgled and covered his mouth with both hands, hunching near the floor. Reed and Tucker backed up. The crewman vomited copiously, falling against the bulkhead when the contents of his stomach had been purged.  
  
Tucker reached for the nearest comm. panel, "Doc, I think you've got another patient."  
  
Archer had given up on sleeping. After finishing his log update he had sat, staring at the screen. He had tried to read Phlox's recent report. After reading the same line ten times he decided it wasn't going to happen. Coffee. That's what he needed...a large, steaming, cup of coffee.  
  
He headed to the mess, conveniently located near his quarters on E deck. Being the Captain did come with some privileges. _Not nearly enough_, he thought, _not today_. He was pleasantly surprised to see Trip and Malcolm nursing their own cups. _We must all be in the same shape_.  
  
"Commander, Lieutenant...care to join me?" He enquired, grabbing a cup and placing it in the resequencer.  
  
"That depends Captain, do you have anything better than this nutripack?" Trip nudged the offending item with his fork.  
  
"Nutripacks...oh no. Chef's sick?" Archer asked, crestfallen. No scrambled eggs.  
  
Reed nodded, "As are his assistants. It makes sense Sir, his position dictates contact with the crew. He was one of the first to fall."  
  
Archer clapped his hands, attempting to put a positive spin on what was turning into a nightmare of a day, "Nutripacks it is, but the company will be worth it!"  
  
The three sat around the table in the Captain's mess. Archer didn't fail to notice that Trip had bags under his eyes that looked as if he had gone three rounds with a master boxer, and Reed's normally crisp appearance was rumpled.  
  
"How's engineering, Trip?" Archer decided to start with Tucker. He figured Malcolm hadn't found their guest and he knew the frustration that would be causing his officer.  
  
"Good Sir, systems have quieted down. We haven't located the cause for the malfunctions but I'm sure we will eventually." Trip explained, twirling his fork through something resembling...he didn't know what it resembled.  
  
Archer grimaced, "See that you do. I need to know what happened." He sipped his coffee. "Malcolm?"  
  
"Sorry Sir, our scans failed to find the intruder. We did a systematic search, deck by deck. If it was here, it should've shown something. I gave the Sub-Commander the readings. If there was an anomaly that we didn't see, she should find it." Reed reported. He offered the last bit of information to give the Captain a boost. Malcolm could sense the Captain's spirits were foundering.  
  
Archer nodded, taking another drink, "There does seem to be some good in all of this...mess."  
  
"What's that Sir?" Reed asked, looking up from his meal.  
  
"This being, whatever it is, doesn't appear to have malevolent intentions toward the crew. We've received no reports or indications that it's violent." Archer answered.  
  
Trip agreed, "Cap'n, on the planet when we were being _questioned_ about this thing's whereabouts, they never said why they wanted it so badly."  
  
"As I recall Trip, they weren't exactly eager to answer any of our questions." Archer replied.  
  
"True...but if they wanted our cooperation, if it were dangerous, that would've been a way to get us to listen." Trip mentioned.  
  
"Listen, but not necessarily cooperate. Commander, they were interrogating us." Reed pointed out.  
  
"Still..." Tucker trailed off, cocking his head to the side, "Do you hear that?"  
  
Archer swiveled his head, a hissing sound was becoming louder, coming from the rear of the room.  
  
"Sir, I think we should..." Reed began.  
  
"What the..." Archer started at the same time.  
  
"Tucker to T'Pol!" Trip hollered into the comm.  
  
The three figures slumped to the floor as the hissing continued in the background. 


	6. Two's Company, Three's A Crowd

Author's Note:  
  
I'd like to thank everyone for leaving feedback. To answer the question, I won't be covering the away mission in as much as having a flashback in this story. You'll get the basics of what happened, enough so you understand. I'm contemplating writing the original away mission as a separate story; so let me know if you all would like that!

And, lastly, this chapter turned out a bit longer than I wanted, I apologize for the length!  
  
Chapter 6 Two's company, Three's A CrowdT'Pol was studying scans from Lieutenant Reed's security sweep when Commander Tucker's voice came across the comm.  
  
"Tucker to T'Pol!"  
  
T'Pol sensed the panic in his tone, "T'Pol speaking, what's wrong Commander?"  
  
It was eerily quiet except for an odd hissing sound in the background. The bridge fell silent, everyone strained to hear the answering reply.  
  
"T'Pol to security, send a team to the Captain's mess immediately!" She ordered, sliding out of her seat, "Ensign Mayweather, you have the bridge."  
  
"Sub-Commander, we're being hailed." Hoshi said, looking at T'Pol.  
  
T'Pol felt torn. She was...concerned...about the Captain and Commander Tucker. She hypothesized that the Captain had been present, along with the Commander, as the signal had originated from Captain Archer's private mess room. Yet, she was the bridge officer in charge, and had a responsibility to handle the incoming hail. She realized that she must trust Lieutenant Reed and his security team. She was ignorant to the fact that Reed was dining with the Captain and Commander Tucker, an ignorance that would soon be dissipated.  
  
"Ensign Mayweather, have you located the ship?" T'Pol asked, her decision made.  
  
Travis scanned the information running across his screen, "Yes Sub- Commander. It looks like they were following us for at least six hours. I thought it was a sensor 'ghost' because of the malfunctions we've been experiencing."  
  
"A valid assumption." She assured Travis, then turned to face Hoshi, "Put them through Ensign." She walked back to the Captain's chair and stood, waiting.  
  
"To whom am I addressing?" The disembodied voice asked.  
  
T'Pol glanced at Hoshi, asking without words what language was being used.  
  
"It's Taltaxin Sub-Commander. I'm sorry, we have audio only." She supplied.  
  
"This is Sub-Commander T'Pol, to whom am _I _speaking?" She asked stiffly. _Two can play this game_, she thought, taking a phrase from her human companions.  
  
"Sub-Commander, this is Captain Cran. I know you are not familiar with me, but let me explain the situation you now find your ship in." The voice came across self-assured and arrogant.  
  
T'Pol was...annoyed. "Explain, we are waiting with...bated breath." She replied, deadpan.  
  
"I have your Captain, Sub-Commander, along with Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed. I'm sure you are wondering how, I'll get to that in a moment. Suffice to say they are safe...for now. Are you familiar with the conspirators? The ones who aided your away team's escape?" Cran asked.  
  
T'Pol gestured for Hoshi to mute the channel. T'Pol activated internal comms.  
  
"Security, have you found the source of commotion in the Captain's mess?" She waited for the reply.  
  
"Sub-Commander, there was no one there. Commander Tucker, Captain Archer and Lieutenant Reed had been eating breakfast. The crew saw them enter and no one saw them leave." The voice wavered.  
  
"Crewman, are you all right?" T'Pol asked.  
  
"Ummm, Not really Sub-Commander, I'm a little under the weather right now. There are only a few of us left on our feet. I'll be okay." He answered, striving to straighten his voice and not appear as weak as he was. "There's one other thing Sub-Commander, we found some type of canister in the room. Whatever it was, it's empty now."  
  
T'Pol felt a thousand weights settle on her shoulders. "Understood. Take the canister to Dr. Phlox and have him analyze it. Try to figure out how they got our people." T'Pol closed the channel then gestured for Hoshi to reopen the communication with Captain Cran.  
  
"We've confirmed our crewmen are missing. I have to ask, what do you hope to accomplish in doing this?"  
  
"Quite a lot, actually. Your people are being held hostage. We require safe passage, and your ship will provide an escort. With your Captain and other officers aboard, I doubt you will sit back and watch our ship be destroyed." He informed her.  
  
T'Pol sat back in Archer's chair, "Who would attempt to destroy your vessel, Captain?"  
  
"The Taltaxins, of course... my dear, didn't your Captain explain what happened?" Cran said, perturbed.  
  
"Yes, Captain Cran, he did, but your logic has...lost me. Why would the Taltaxins try to destroy you?"  
  
Cran huffed, "Because we've got the Future. Thanks to your away team, the Future is safe."  
  
T'Pol glanced at the other bridge members, wondering if perhaps they understood what Cran was talking about. Blank faces met her gaze.  
  
"Captain Cran, I do not understand what this Future refers to? Does this have anything to do with the reticent _passenger_ that hid aboard our shuttle?" T'Pol asked.  
  
Laughter barked across the speakers, "That would be the same, Sub- Commander. The Future must stay hidden. Her safety is of the utmost importance. We were afraid your people would turn her in when confronted."  
  
Travis mouthed, "_Her_?"  
  
Hoshi shrugged.  
  
T'Pol felt like swearing, a very un-Vulcan-like behavior.  
  
"Captain, I'm afraid you have us at a disadvantage. We don't understand what this Future is that you speak of. How did she transport off our vessel with our crewmen?"  
  
"Have you ever heard of a Dead-Man's switch, Sub-Commander?" Cran asked smugly.  
  
"I believe it is a device that relocates an individual's body upon their demise." T'Pol replied.  
  
"Excellent! The Future was equipped with one of these switches. In her case, she was able to mimic death with a type of gas. She attached transponders to your Captain, Tucker and Reed. They were all transported...beamed as you refer to it, aboard my ship." Cran's voice echoed his pleasure over the simple transaction.  
  
T'Pol, on the other hand, was fighting to not show her displeasure. "And now you wish to hold them hostage...to prevent your own people from destroying your ship. Where will you go?"  
  
"Relas V, if you must know...you would have figured that out by our course, it's no secret. It's a trading planet. One I know Enterprise visited prior to your Captain's trip to Taltax. Once we arrive, we'll be able to...get lost...and protect the Future from any assassination attempts the Prime Minister orders."  
  
T'Pol clasped her hands behind her back, "I see. Are you also aware that Enterprise has been infected with venissian flu? Captain Archer, Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed have all been exposed."  
  
Silence answered her query. T'Pol looked at Hoshi.  
  
"The channel is still open." She supplied, checking her panel.  
  
Cran's voice broke the quiet, his arrogance diminished. "The Future has informed me she was aware of this. She has taken steps to isolate Archer and his officers."  
  
"And what about medical attention?" T'Pol asked.  
  
"Sub-Commander, really...we'll worry about that if it becomes a problem. Please, we aren't cold-hearted. Circumstance has dictated we take...unfortunate...actions, but your crewmen are safe. We will not harm them, or allow them to come to harm, if you do as we've requested."  
  
Cran's demeanor had changed to placating, but amidst his words, T'Pol discerned sincerity. She contemplated what course of action she should take. The ship was virtually incapacitated, the upper echelons of the command staff kidnapped. _Murphy's law_, she thought, _a very appropriate Earth term for the events taking place_.  
  
"I'll have our helmsman set the appropriate course, Captain Cran, please send over the appropriate information for us to maintain close proximity. I'll be in contact, Enterprise out." T'Pol nodded towards Hoshi.  
  
Travis checked his panel again to ensure the readings were accurate. The information continued to stay the same.  
  
"Sub-Commander, there is another vessel approaching." Mayweather announced.  
  
"Ensign Sato?" T'Pol queried.  
  
"One moment...we're being hailed." Hoshi answered.  
  
"Put them through." T'Pol ordered. She felt the distinct need for meditation.  
  
Hoshi pushed the appropriate buttons on her panel. "Ready, Sub-Commander."  
  
"This is the Starship Enterprise, please state your mission." T'Pol stated.  
  
"This is Prime Minister Veen of Taltax. I insist on speaking with your Captain. He has something that belongs to me, and I want it returned!" 


	7. Hostages

Chapter 7 Hostages  
  
"Prime minister, our Captain is currently indisposed, may I be of assistance?" T'Pol asked diplomatically, refusing to be baited.  
  
"The only assistance you may give is to return our missing person. We have reason to believe she returned with your shuttle." Veen demanded.  
  
Before T'Pol could reply, one of Veen's crew approached him from behind, whispering information in his ear. The Taltaxins were similar to humans, with slight differences in the shape of their outer extremities. Their limbs were longer, eyes narrower, ears thinner. Their bodies were awkward versions of _Homo Sapiens_.  
  
Veen looked at T'Pol, his eyes snapping, "You know where our missing person is, Sub-Commander. You are playing a dangerous game."  
  
"I am playing no game, Prime Minister. Your accusation would be better aimed at your own people." T'Pol replied, maintaining calm, as the peace before the storm. "You abducted our away team when they came in good faith to your planet. You put them through hours of interrogations. They barely escaped without harm, yet you accuse me of playing games?"  
  
Hoshi and Travis mentally applauded the Sub-Commander's words. T'Pol wasn't finished.  
  
"If you attempt to fire upon Enterprise or the vessel we are currently protecting, we will return fire. I suggest you review those scans your ship took earlier. Your weapons are no match for Enterprise."  
  
Veen's anger evaporated as the truth of her statement impacted his senses, "Sub-Commander, perhaps I was...hasty...in my accusations."  
  
"Perhaps." She replied coldly.  
  
"As Prime Minister I represent the affairs of Taltax, we have laws...please... the person you protect is a sentenced criminal on our planet. She must be returned." He pleaded.  
  
_My what a tangled web we weave_, thought T'Pol, "This situation is not of our making. I do not have enough information to make a decision on who should be supported. Would you be willing to explain the crimes this person committed?"  
  
Veen appeared flustered by her request, "Certainly, you may come to our vessel and we'll discuss the matter." He offered.  
  
Travis figured Veen must think T'Pol incredibly naïve. _He's in for a surprise_, he thought, _T'Pol is one tough lady.  
_  
"I'm afraid that won't be possible Prime Minister. I'll contact you. T'Pol out." She gestured at Hoshi to shut the channel. "Mr. Mayweather, you have the bridge." She headed for sickbay...and hopefully answers.

* * *

The drum beat a rhythm mercilessly in his head. He lay there, eyes closed, unconsciously moaning in tune with the percussion.  
  
"Commander?" Reed crawled from his pallet towards Tucker.  
  
Trip fought to open his eyes, an act of simple muscle control. Simple wasn't on the menu today. Gradually, his lids cracked open. A blurry Malcolm coalesced above him.  
  
"Malcolm?" Tucker's voice scratched from disuse and the anesthesia effect of the gas.  
  
"I was beginning to think I would have to start talking to myself for company." Malcolm's face belied the levity of his words. Reed had been worried.  
  
Malcolm had little recollection of what had happened to them. He had checked his friends, finding them unconscious but otherwise okay. He had proceeded to examine their surroundings, theorizing they were aboard another spaceship. There was a certain background noise that one becomes accustomed to on a ship, a humming of the engines that sent micro- vibrations through the decking.  
  
The room they had been placed in could pass for a storage closet on Enterprise. Room enough for their blankets and little extra for legroom. _Sparse accommodations indeed_, Reed thought irritably.  
  
Trip cleared his throat, "The Captain?"  
  
Malcolm shrugged in the direction of the opposite wall, "Over there, still out."  
  
"It wasn't your fault Malcolm." Trip spoke softly.  
  
The words fell like lead in a vat of water. Reed stared at the bulkhead behind Trip's head, refusing to make eye contact.  
  
"I wish I could believe that."  
  
"Believe it. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. We'll get out of here." Trip began to push his body upwards, levering trembling arms against the floor.  
  
Malcolm reached forward, steadying Tucker.  
  
"Speaking of which..." Tucker began to take note of his surroundings, "Where is here?"  
  
"A ship, some room in the ship...beyond that, I don't know." Reed answered.  
  
Trip saw Archer lying across the room. He began to crawl towards his friend, a short distance but for the weakness permeating his body. He collapsed against the gray metal wall beside Archer's head, noticing the steady rising of his chest.  
  
"Why's he still out?" Trip asked.  
  
"Probably taking him longer to recover from whatever it was we were gassed with. It was foul stuff." Reed grimaced remembering how he had felt when he had woken.  
  
Tucker agreed. Every moment that passed he felt stronger but that initial waking had been gruesome.  
  
"Maybe it's because he's oldest?" Trip wondered.  
  
"I'm not...old." A weak voice interrupted their conversation.  
  
Reed rushed over to kneel beside Trip, both looked down at Archer. His eyes remained shut.  
  
"Sir?" Tucker asked expectantly.  
  
"Give me a minute. I feel like I've been on a two-day drinking binge." Archer brought a hand up to his eyes, covering them from the light.  
  
"It'll pass Cap'n." Trip assured his friend.  
  
Archer contemplated letting darkness take him back to its sweet lair, but disregarded the luxury. He was still in the mental regrouping process, but he recognized the unsettled feeling that came from being in danger. Something had happened...in his mess, eating and discussing ship's business with his officers...a hissing sound. Then nothingness.  
  
"Where are we?" He asked. He opened his eyes. Trip and Reed were staring down at him. If he'd had the energy, it would've scared him. Instead he waved them away, and attempted to right himself into a sitting position. Attempted was an apt description because he found himself slipping to the other side.  
  
Firm hands grasped each arm and eased him against the bulkhead.  
  
"Easy Cap'n." Trip cautioned.  
  
Once Archer seemed stable, Reed briefed him on what he knew. The three were now sitting together, lined up against the bulkhead, arms across knees, looking no better than yesterday's laundry.  
  
"The lock?" Archer asked, talking into his knees. He was scrutinizing the metal deck with careful detail.  
  
Reed shook his head then spoke realizing the Captain wasn't watching him, "No good Sir. Not even a panel to jimmy on this side."  
  
"So we're stuck here?" Tucker said, disgusted, flicking a piece of lint off his uniform.  
  
"For now, Commander. For now." Reed replied, contemplating the door.

* * *

"Have you identified the substance, Doctor?" T'Pol asked Phlox. She had left the bridge and went to sickbay in search of answers. After arriving, she began to wish she had settled for a call to the Doctor. The normally empty sickbay was teaming with ill crewmen. The odors were...overwhelming.  
  
Phlox sensed T'Pol's distress, and gestured her to follow him into the hallway.  
  
"I have Sub-Commander, it's Dioxin, a common agent that can be found on many planets. It's known for its ability to suppress vital signs. Typically used by smugglers in slave ships."  
  
T'Pol's lip curled with distaste, "Slave ships. They administer it to the victims and fool sensor scans when confronted."  
  
"Quite so. Disturbing what some species do to others."  
  
"Doctor, what effect would this have on humans?"  
  
Phlox was relieved to be the bearer of good news for a change, "Nothing unusual Sub-Commander. They'll wake up feeling no worse than a hangover. Uncomfortable, but not life-threatening."  
  
T'Pol nodded, "Is Crewman Hodge under your care?"  
  
"Yes, he came in a few minutes ago. May I ask why?" Phlox asked.  
  
"I must speak with him. He was leading the investigation into the Captain's and the other's disappearance."  
  
"I see. You can have five minutes, no more. He pushed himself to far, I'm afraid, and is quite ill now." Phlox warned.  
  
"Will he be okay?" T'Pol felt a growing...affection...for her crew, something that unsettled her of late.  
  
"Oh yes." He assured, "With time...and rest." His subtle message wasn't lost on T'Pol, five minutes and not a second longer. It made her recall a description Captain Archer had said to her weeks ago. He had referred to Doctor Phlox as a Mother Hen. She had been confused with the term, but upon his explanation felt it was an apt depiction of the ships Doctor.  
  
"I understand."  
  
"We'll get them back." Phlox said suddenly.  
  
T'Pol met Phlox's gaze. The unspoken emotions flowed around her. Fear for her fellow officers and friends. A friendship she had begun to acknowledge. She wasn't prepared to deal with the loss. She tipped her head slightly, the only show of appreciation for the comfort Phlox offered. She turned, and stepped into sickbay, Phlox following. The door shut behind them with an inevitability of the understood fears.

* * *

"You lose!" Tucker shouted, his lips quirking with delight. "That's five in a row Cap'n."  
  
"I think your cheating Trip, no one has that kind of luck." Archer joked.  
  
"Rock, paper and scissors is hardly a strategic game Captain. Your just abysmal at it." Lieutenant Reed said.  
  
Archer and Tucker gaped at Reed. He stared back nonplussed.  
  
"It's okay to be bad at a game." Malcolm replied.  
  
He maintained the stare for seconds but before time could tick into a minute his mouth twitched. A choked snort escaped. The three men broke out in combined laughter.  
  
Archer thumped Tucker on the shoulder, "I still think you cheated."  
  
Reed squirmed imperceptibly, "Captain...do you think there's some way to contact whomever has us caged in here?"  
  
"We tried Malcolm, I just got my voice back, remember?" Archer reminded his armory officer.  
  
"Yes, I know Sir...but I've got a bit of a problem." Reed appeared uncomfortable.  
  
Trip and Archer looked at each other, trying to figure out what Malcolm was hinting at. They both knew Malcolm could be a bit of a stodgy Brit.  
  
"Oh!" Archer's face registered understanding.  
  
Trip looked at Reed, then Archer, "What?"  
  
"The privy, Trip...Malcolm needs to use the privy." Archer mumbled. Reed's face colored.  
  
"Ah." Trip acknowledged.  
  
"If you press the floor panel towards the left rear of the compartment Captain Archer, a door will open to reveal facilities. I believe these will be adequate." A voice echoed through the room.  
  
The men twisted to find the source. The room remained shut, which meant the voice came from outside. The implication that they were under surveillance sobered the trio.  
  
"You've heard us all along, haven't you?" Archer demanded.  
  
"Quite so, quite so. Who knew humans could be so loud?" The voice spoke amused.  
  
Archer was far from amused, as was Trip and Malcolm.  
  
"What the hell are you playing at? We've been waiting for hours for someone to talk to us, and you've been there the entire time!" Trip hollered at the wall bearing the door.  
  
"Come Commander Tucker, there's no need to be angry. We owe you a great debt." The voice said.  
  
"This is how you repay your debts?" Archer snapped.  
  
"I'm sorry Captain, but it is a small ship, and it would seem you are carrying a nasty virus within. There are few rooms aboard ship that can maintain isolation." The voice sounded apologetic.  
  
Archer wasn't falling for it, "Then why no contact? Who are you? Why have you brought us here? Where is our ship?" He fired off questions that had been burning for answers.  
  
"You are insurance Captain. You and your officers are the only thing keeping our ship from being blown into a small debris field. As such, I think you can understand the importance of having you here. As for who we are, we are those that helped you escape on Taltax...we belong to the conspirators."  
  
Reed digested the information, "How did you get us off our ship?"  
  
"The Future, Lieutenant, your stowaway...our Future. She is what will be. She must be protected.  
  
"You could've asked." Trip grumbled.  
  
"And what would you have done? Called a meeting? Offered assistance perhaps? When you were in no place to offer anything. It was our people that saved you, Commander Tucker. We helped you escape our world. You owe us." The voice had become angry.  
  
"We owe you nothing. You drugged and kidnapped us. Whatever help you hoped to receive, we won't give it willingly." Archer informed him tersely.  
  
"I'm afraid it's out of your hands Captain, and fortunately for you, your Sub-Commander felt differently. She has all ready complied with our request."  
  
Archer's mouth snarled with an angry retort, he bit it back and clenched his fingers into tight fists. "We've only your word for what has happened. Forgive me if we fail to believe you."  
  
"It isn't necessary for you to believe Captain. You'll find the facilities in the rear, as I've stated. A meal will be delivered shortly. The Future has expressed a desire to discuss...events with you. Expect her after your meal is completed." The voice finished with finality. 


	8. Answers and Illness

Chapter 8 Answers and Illness  
  
"This is a meal?" Trip asked, thrusting the bowl of liquid away with his foot.  
  
"You should eat Trip, keep up your strength." Archer admonished.  
  
"Like you?" Trip pointed to Archer's bowl, cooling beside his folded knee.  
  
"I'm not hungry." He said, a wave of queasiness rolling across his stomach.  
  
Trip glanced at Reed, sharing a worried look. Reed resumed studying his own bowl of food when Archer glared.  
  
"Stop that. I'm not sick."  
  
"Then why aren't you eating?" Trip didn't back down.  
  
"I told you, I'm not hungry."  
  
"Not hungry...in a venissian flu kind of way." Trip mumbled.  
  
"I'm not going to argue with you." Archer grouched.  
  
Reed decided it was time to intervene, bickering only increased the growing ache in his head, "Commander, its best he doesn't eat. If he is sick, I don't think we want to risk it coming back up any time soon."  
  
Archer started to thank Malcolm and then his last statement processed, "I'm not sick!" He said, indignant.  
  
"If you say so Captain." Reed sipped a spoonful loudly.  
  
Trip fought to keep from smiling. Where his confrontation with Archer had failed to make progress, Reed had managed to make the point.  
  
The door to their enclosure swooped open, admitting a Taltaxin pointing a phase pistol in their direction. "Remain seated." He ordered.  
  
Archer nodded to his men to do as told. Being incapacitated wasn't going to help them get out of here.  
  
Behind the alien, a woman entered the room. She was shorter than most Taltaxin's, her limbs shorter, and her eyes wider.  
  
"You're human?" Trip said, shocked.  
  
The woman shook her head, "No Commander, but I do resemble your species. You can imagine the shock our ministry had upon seeing your away team, no?"  
  
Reed did remember the odd welcome they had received. It should have been an indication to them that things were not right. Malcolm had been alarmed but Archer had cautioned a wait and see approach.  
  
The Prime Minister and his cabinet had reacted with surprise upon seeing them after landing. It hadn't been a pleasant 'haven't seen you in a while' surprise, more along the line of 'the in-laws are coming for dinner' surprise.  
  
"I'm a mutation Captain, a genetic aberration." She supplied the answer to their unasked question.  
  
Archer went to stand, dizziness washed over him. He decided to stay down. "Then you are this _Future_? How did you get us off our ship?"  
  
Trip slid closer to Archer, a subtle move of support. He was aware his friend was succumbing to the flu. Reed mimicked his action on Archer's other side.  
  
"I am The Future. I will explain everything. If you will allow me?" She gestured towards the floor in front of the three men.  
  
Archer extended his hand, an invitation.  
  
"This is a long story Captain, I will try to, _keep it short_, as you say?" The woman spoke quietly. If they had been on Earth, any one of the men would have found her attractive. For a Taltaxin...she would be considered ugly.  
  
"Years ago, babies began to appear with this particular set of mutation. Our government became involved." Bitterness laced her words. She sat yoga- style before them, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.  
  
"They claimed the mutation was dangerous, that if allowed to continue our kind would soon overwhelm and dominate. Their campaign of terror succeeded. The general population followed along like sheep, leading the mutant children to death chambers."  
  
Archer, Tucker and Reed felt the disgust and pain radiate from the woman.  
  
"I'm sorry..." Archer replied, a whisper in the room.  
  
The woman smiled, "You can understand their reaction when you arrived. Panic ensued. Your species was the genetic mutation they fought so hard to eradicate."  
  
"How did you survive?" Trip asked.  
  
The woman trembled, "My parents, Commander Tucker. They didn't believe I was the danger the government insisted I was. When the report was made about a mutant baby whose parents refused to put it down, there wasn't a place they could hide that was safe. The ministry hunted my parents and put them to death. They rationalized their actions by saying that my parents could have produced more mutant children. It was bad enough one had escaped...but if my parents had more..."  
  
Reed sat stunned, "No one protested their actions?"  
  
"Not out loud, Lieutenant Reed. To do so was a death sentence. There _was_ an underground movement."  
  
"The conspirators." Tucker said.  
  
"Yes, Commander, they didn't agree with the Ministry's policy of murdering innocent children. They set up a system to rescue as many of us as possible. Unfortunately, the ministry is very good at what they do. Most of the conspirators that hid mutants were discovered, and all were killed."  
  
"But you lived." Archer stated.  
  
"Yes, but they got closer and closer every day to finding my whereabouts."  
  
"And that's when we arrived." Reed put the pieces of the puzzle together.  
  
The Future nodded, "Yes, that is when you arrived."  
  
Tucker shifted his legs, grimacing as muscles cramped, "That doesn't explain how you managed to evade our sensors and hide aboard our ship like you did?"  
  
She smiled, "That is the easiest to explain of all." She produced a small black box from her pocket. She offered it to Trip.  
  
Trip took the item gingerly; it felt surprisingly heavy, "What is it?"  
  
"It's an energy disruptor. With this box I can excite the molecules around us, creating energy. The energy can then be used to disrupt electronics. Sensors...ships systems..."  
  
"Like a bolt of lightening!" Trip exclaimed.  
  
The woman looked confused.  
  
"It's a stream of electrons, arcs from the ground on our planet to the clouds, when a positive charge builds up. The energy created by the electrons excites the molecules in the air as the electrons move, that's what we see as lightning. It'll disrupt electrical systems if close enough." Tucker explained.  
  
She nodded, "Yes, like lightning."  
  
"That doesn't explain how you hid from sight?" Reed asked, the one answer he wanted to know.  
  
"That is a secret, Lieutenant Reed, one of the technologies the conspirators developed to help keep me safe. I would prefer that to remain a mystery for now." She answered, uneasy.  
  
The room fell quiet. Archer chewed on the new information. Tucker wondered about keeping the black box, but handed it back to the woman when she held out her palm to retrieve the item. Reed burned with unanswered questions. She had explained a great deal, but there were holes left unfilled.  
  
"Why are you here? Aren't you afraid of getting sick?" Reed asked finally, the thought occurring to him as he noticed the growing pallor of Captain Archer.  
  
The Future stood, "I've had it before. Most of the conspirators have, they've traveled to Relas V planning for this eventual escape. One of the trips they brought venissian flu back to Taltax. We are a spacefaring race, Lieutenant, most of our people have had this virus as a child."  
  
"Then why are we being kept isolated?" Archer asked, angry.  
  
"I said most Captain, it would not be good for even a portion of our crew to fall ill at a time like this."  
  
"We are becoming sick, Future, we need medical assistance." Reed looked pointedly at Archer.  
  
"I'm sorry. We never meant to involve all of you. We had hoped to take your Captain, but you two showed up at an inopportune time. Our ministry's vessel arriving accelerated the need for action." Her voice softened, "I will see what I can do for a doctor."  
  
"Is Future your real name?" Archer asked, curious, one final question before they were left alone.  
  
She smiled, a gentle curve in a sad face, "No Captain, only my parents knew my real name." She rapped against the door, "I'm finished."  
  
The door closed behind her retreating form. Archer leaned back against the metal, letting it cool his warming skin. He was sick. He spared a glance at Tucker and Reed. They were staring at him.  
  
"Don't you two have anything better to do?"

* * *

T'Pol sat in the Captain's ready room, PADD's cluttered on the desk before her. Phlox's recent report, security's report...and still the situation remained. They were on course for Relas V, tailing a ship full of Taltaxin _criminals_, Enterprise herself tailed by the ship representing the Taltax government. An impasse that she knew would be broken before reaching Relas V. After discussing at length with the Prime Minister, she felt he would do anything to retrieve or destroy the criminal from the conspirators.  
  
Cran had been more forthcoming on the Ministry's reasons for capturing The Future. He had explained capture was only an illusion. Dead or alive, it wouldn't matter to the Prime Minister, the pretense only to save intergalactic face. The story he had offered seemed too horrific to be true, yet of the two men, she believed Cran's version to be the more truthful.  
  
The door beeped.  
  
"Come." T'Pol answered.  
  
Doctor Phlox entered, the usual smile missing from his animated face.  
  
"Yes Doctor?"  
  
"It's been over 48 hours since their exposure." He didn't need to explain whom he was referring to.  
  
"What do you suggest I do?" She snapped, uncharacteristically giving in to her emotions. She fought to achieve control.  
  
Phlox eyed her with concern, "Sub-Commander, how long has it been since you had any rest?"  
  
"Too long." Before he could lecture, she continued, "This situation will be deteriorating soon. We are within a day of Relas V. I must find a solution Doctor, until then, rest is the least of my concerns."  
  
"You will do them no good if you collapse." He said, compassion for the Vulcan officer reflected in his features.  
  
"I won't collapse." She assured him, "I will contact Cran about our people."  
  
Before Phlox could say more, the panel in front of T'Pol beeped, "Yes?" She answered.  
  
"Sub-Commander, Captain Cran wants to talk with you." Hoshi said.  
  
"Put him through Ensign." T'Pol raised an eyebrow at Phlox, "Perhaps now would be sufficient."  
  
He nodded, remaining in the room.  
  
"Sub-Commander T'Pol, do you recall we said we'd deal with the issue of a doctor when it arose?" Cran's voice crackled into the room.  
  
"I do, Captain. Our ship's Doctor has informed me they are likely becoming ill." T'Pol replied.  
  
"I'm afraid that is precisely what is happening. We will allow your Doctor to transport over, but only your Doctor, no security...do you understand Sub- Commander?" He said, his tone severe.  
  
T'Pol looked at Phlox, he nodded acceptance. "We'll send him over at once."  
  
She closed the channel. "Be careful Doctor."  
  
Phlox nodded, and left to prepare his supplies. T'Pol stared at the door where he had been moments before. "Take care of them." She whispered. 


	9. Acts of Desperation

Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews! I'm thrilled so many are enjoying this story.

* * *

Chapter 9 Acts of Desperation  
  
"You call this adequate! These men need a bed, not a blanket on a floor."  
  
The angry words penetrated Archer's hazy awareness. He was hot. Where was he? Why was it so ungodly hot? He felt people grabbing him, moving his body. He struck out blindly.  
  
"It's all right Captain. You'll feel better soon." The voice said confidently.  
  
He wished he could believe them. He was sick. That's why it was so hot. Memories of the past few days came rushing back. He let a hurt moan escape. He truly felt awful.  
  
He stopped struggling against the restraining hands. A soothing coldness seeped over his face, moving down into his chest and spreading towards his limbs. He blinked, gradually adjusting his sight to the brightness of the room. Phlox leaned over him, examining him carefully. Satisfied by what he saw, he clucked to himself happily.  
  
"That should help Captain." He smiled.  
  
"Wha...what did you do?" His voice came out painfully weak.  
  
"A hypospray with an analgesic, fever-reducer, and something to calm that queasy stomach." Phlox patted his shoulder.  
  
"Trip...Malcolm?" He asked.  
  
"They are fine, sleeping. Apparently you became ill first and bore the brunt of it." Phlox said, pulling a chair beside Archer's bed.  
  
Bed? He lifted his head. Same room, but the three men were now resting in some Taltaxin form of a cot.  
  
Archer let his head drop back on the pillow, "I assume I have you to thank for this?" His voice was stronger, the contents of the hypospray rapidly working against the virus in his system.  
  
Phlox's unflappable demeanor wavered, "Any decent being would have seen you were provided these after it became apparent you were ill. Your _hosts_ appear to be lacking in that trait."  
  
Archer stared at Phlox, surprised to hear the doctor speak ill of anyone. They must have been in worse shape than he thought when the Doctor arrived. Phlox was normally easy-going, tolerant of many things...except when he felt his patients were being mistreated or placed in jeopardy. He could see the tight lines of disapproval in his face. Doctor Phlox was not pleased.  
  
"You said it was a harmless virus?" He asked, concerned that they were worse off than he had believed.  
  
Phlox gestured irritably, "It is, if treated. If left untreated it can be deadly."  
  
Archer blinked. "You didn't mention that before."  
  
"It wasn't relevant. I saw no reason to cause you more worry than you had at the time." Phlox's face flushed.  
  
"I see." Archer looked up at the ceiling. "Anything else you'd like to tell me?"

* * *

Hoshi sat at the edge of her chair, poised for action. The level of tension had risen on the bridge as the ships approached Relas V. It had become painful, barely tolerable. The crew waited for something, _anything_, to break the stalemate they found themselves in, an unwitting player in a convoluted game of which they knew far to little about.  
  
Later Hoshi would remember the phrase, _be careful what you wish for_, because the stalemate was about to break spectacularly in their prospective faces.  
  
"We're being hailed!" The light on the panel flashed, incoming message. Hoshi swiveled to watch T'Pol, waiting for her orders.  
  
"Put it through Ensign."  
  
"Enterprise, this is Prime Minister Veen. We cannot allow you to protect The Future any longer. Remove yourself from the area. We promise to try and keep your people safe." Veen dictated, as if reading from a cue card. His words lacked emotion.  
  
T'Pol understood the unspoken message, "Get out of the way, or we'll make sure your people become a casualty."  
  
"I can't allow that Prime Minister. Our people are still on that ship."  
  
Veen slapped a hand against the chair, "We'll do our best, Sub-Commander, to cause them no harm while claiming our prisoner."  
  
"I don't believe you." T'Pol stated succinctly enunciating each syllable.  
  
In the days ahead, T'Pol would remember the moment she realized she had made a critical error. She saw the change in his eyes. A cold finality, an acceptance of a course of action that would be made, regardless of what she could do to put a stop to it. "I'm sorry you feel that way." The channel shut with a hard abruptness.  
  
T'Pol pondered the viewscreen, "Mr. Mayweather?"  
  
Electricity snaked through the air.  
  
"Their ship is gaining speed." Travis announced, studying his readings, glancing at T'Pol.  
  
"Destination?" T'Pol unconsciously stepped towards the helm.  
  
Travis punched buttons frantically; _this can't be_, he thought, "They're going to ram her..." He stared at the scene unfolding before them.  
  
"Set an intercept, Mr. Mayweather." T'Pol fought to keep calm, strength in order. The crew needed to know she could handle this. She strove for the same leadership that Archer offered.  
  
"Yes Ma'am." Travis worked the controls. The Enterprise banked gracefully, swimming in its pool of stars, coming between the two ships, presenting an obstacle of metal and flesh.  
  
"It's not slowing down Sub-commander, she's increasing speed!" Travis shouted.  
  
"Tactical Alert, polarize the hull plating! Maintain course, Ensign." T'Pol demanded.  
  
"Hull plating polarized!"  
  
"Maintaining course!"  
  
T'Pol toggled the comm. switch for ship wide communications, "All hands prepare for impact, I repeat, prepare for impact!"  
  
"Lock onto their port bow, fire a warning shot." She instructed.  
  
"Firing..."  
  
"She's still coming...impact in 5...4...3...2...1!" Travis hollered.  
  
Enterprise rolled, bucked and burned. Sparks exploded across the bridge, debris rained down around the crew.  
  
Hoshi clung to her station; Travis crawled back into his chair.  
  
"Report Ensign!" T'Pol ordered.  
  
"We've lost warp, impulse engines are at 60%, hull plating is down. Their ship is approaching the conspirator's, Sub-Commander." Travis wiped at sticky blood leaking into his eyes.  
  
"Weapons?" She asked.  
  
Travis checked the read-outs, defeated, he shook his head.  
  
Amidst the wreckage of Enterprise, a plan began to formulate in T'Pol's mind. "They may have won the battle Ensign, but they haven't won the war, get a security team to the Captain's ready room. I have an idea." 


	10. Confrontations

Author's Note: Almost finished. The epilogue will be up either tonight or tomorrow. Thanks for reading, and I hope you all have enjoyed it as much as I did writing it!  
  
Chapter 10 Confrontations  
  
Captain Cran sat in a smooth gray chair, in the forward console. His ship, the Venture, was half the size of Enterprise and carried only a third of the crew. This didn't allow the Captain the luxury of presiding over the command center. Every able-bodied member of the crew had a duty to perform.  
  
A sallow Taltaxin to his left raised his head in alarm, "Captain, the ministry's ship, its changing speeds!"  
  
"What is its course Daly?" Cran asked.  
  
"They're coming...straight at us." Daly announced, shaken.  
  
Cran leaned forward, "What about Enterprise?"  
  
"She's moving into intercept position." Relief flooded Cran. Sub- Commander T'Pol was following through. She had little choice but one never knew for certain the actions another would take, despite what circumstances dictated.  
  
"Captain!" Daly said, his voice rising. "It's not slowing!"  
  
Cran jumped out of his chair, striding over to Daly and reaching the display for himself. "Screen on." He ordered.  
  
The viewer opened in time to reveal the Enterprise slewing to port, injured from impact with the ministry ship. Cran's mouth went dry.  
  
"How close?" He asked.  
  
"They'll be in docking range in...five minutes." Daly replied, eyes wide. "Bring weapons online." He ordered, still staring with fascination at the burning silver ship on the screen.  
  
Daly hit the buttons. Nothing. He tried the sequence a second time. Again nothing. "Captain, our weapons, they aren't responding!"  
  
Cran drew his gaze off the injured ship, looking at Daly with new worry, "What do you mean they aren't responding?"  
  
Daly gestured the display, "See for yourself."  
  
Cran punched the sequence, nothing. He tried again, nothing.  
  
"Engineering, why are our weapons offline?" He thundered.  
  
A tinny voice answered through the comm., "Captain, someone has short- circuited the weapons relays."  
  
Cran felt his self-control dissolving around him, "Fix it!"  
  
"Working on it Captain, but it'll be at least twenty minutes." The voice replied.  
  
"We don't have twenty minutes!" He shouted.  
  
Cran couldn't believe the events unfolding. The fear they had all lived with on a daily basis, the meticulous planning. They had almost lost everything, but then the Earth ship had arrived, and offered them another way. And now it was falling apart again, and he could do nothing, impotent against certain failure.  
  
"We're being hailed." Daly spoke up, "It's Enterprise!"  
  
Cran lifted his gaze once again to the viewer, "Put it through."  
  
Sub-Commander T'Pol spoke four simple words, four words that offered yet another chance at survival, "I have a plan."

* * *

Trip felt his bed shaking. An earthquake? San Francisco was a prime area for quakes, but it had been a while since he had last woken to his bed sliding in the midst of one. He heard voices murmuring above. Voices? He lived alone. Alarmed, his eyes popped open.  
  
Doctor Phlox and some woman...wait...he knew that face. _Future_? His mind cycled through recent events. He wasn't on Earth. He wasn't even on Enterprise. They were hostages aboard the Taltaxin ship. He struggled to remember. How had he come to be in a bed? They had gotten sick. Captain...hot, Reed in pain and he...he couldn't remember. The last thing he was aware of, he had been leaning next to Archer, watching over his friend as he succumbed to the high fever burning within. Trip had been alarmed at how hot he felt. He had no memory of how he gone from that to here.  
  
"Doc?" He croaked. The ship rocked violently again.  
  
Phlox turned towards Trip, aborting his conversation. He smiled kindly, "You're awake."  
  
"What's happening?" He asked.  
  
Phlox leaned over him, running a scan surreptitiously behind his palm, "Nothing you need worry about Commander."  
  
The ship lurched again, Phlox staggered to maintain his position.  
  
"That didn't feel like nothing." Trip asserted.  
  
Future stepped forward, "We are under attack." She faced Phlox, "They must be on their feet Doctor. We are being boarded."  
  
Phlox looked on the verge of arguing, thought better of it, and went to retrieve his medical bag. He quickly administered stimulants.  
  
Within a minute, the men were sitting, albeit with some difficulty. Archer viewed the room through bleary vision. "Phlox?"  
  
"I'm sorry Captain, it would seem we are about to have company. She thought it wise you be functioning, and I would have to agree." He pointed towards Future, standing warily by the door, now open.  
  
Reed fought to maintain coherent thought through the pounding of his head. He felt the blood vessels constrict in tune with the beating of his heart. It hurt.  
  
"Who is attacking us?" He managed to ask.  
  
"My people." Future replied, bitterly. "I told you, they will stop at nothing to kill me, and any who aid me."  
  
Reed knew he wasn't quite up to speed yet, but still, "What about that device you used on our ship? Can't you use it to hide?"  
  
Future shook her head, "We have devices on board that can reveal anyone using that technology. All the ministry needs to do is _acquire_ one from someone on board. They'd find me eventually."  
  
They heard shouts and phaser fire echoing through the corridor. Future gestured for them to gather in the rear of the room, such as it was.  
  
Phlox eased a helping hand under Archer's armpit, "Easy Captain." Archer felt as if his body was full of steel, his limbs fought to move. Trip and Reed helped each other towards Phlox and Archer.  
  
"It would help if we could defend ourselves." Archer pointed out.  
  
"Captain, you couldn't hit a Janx in your condition." Future snapped, tensed in front of the men.  
  
Trip looked at Archer, bemused, "Janx?"  
  
"A rather large animal on my planet. It's known for being easy prey. They are slow and stupid." She informed them, staring at the door as the noises grew.  
  
"At least she didn't call you a Janx." Reed said wryly.  
  
"Future, activate that stealth device... it'll buy time for Enterprise." Archer cautioned unaware of earlier events.  
  
Future knew Enterprise had been badly damaged. She chose to keep that information private. She also knew that these men, who had thought of protecting her rather than themselves, when faced with the approaching enemy, didn't deserve to die.  
  
Archer read the resolve in her stance, "You're going to turn yourself over." He said softly.  
  
"I'm going to try and save you." She cried, "You shouldn't die. It's my fault you are here."  
  
Reed moved forward, Tucker restrained him, frustrated, "They'll only kill us next. Don't do this. Together we may stand a chance."  
  
"What would you have me do? Watch as they kill you?" Future turned again towards the door. They were close.  
  
"Listen..." Reed outlined a plan.  
  
Moments later, members of the Taltaxin ministry burst in the room, phasers rapidly aimed at the men.  
  
"Secured!" One of the front aliens shouted. A figure emerged from the back.  
  
"You let your men do the dirty work Prime Minister? Waiting until it's safe to claim the prize?" Archer snarled. Phlox steadied the Captain as his muscles fought for control.  
  
"A wise ruler knows he must not place himself at risk." Veen replied condescending. "Where is she?"  
  
"Who?" Tucker asked, feigning ignorance.  
  
A front guard thrust his rifle into his abdomen for his trouble. Tucker went down like a sack of potatoes.  
  
"Why don't you pick on someone your own size." Archer said, unrestrained fury evident.

  
Veen nodded towards the guard nearest Archer. He slammed the butt of his rifle against Archer's temple. The Captain fell back against the bulkhead.  
  
"You bastard." Reed spat.  
  
"I've been called worse Lieutenant. Now where is she?" He asked, impatience creeping into his tone.  
  
"Right here, Prime Minister." A sweet voice replied, a shot appearing out of nothingness, striking the minister dead center of his back, his mouth open in surprise, his eyes revealing his shock. He toppled forward, dead before he hit the ground.  
  
Chaos erupted. Guards turned shooting at air. Phlox covered the Captain with his body, gesturing at Reed and Trip to stay down. _This is it_, he thought, he doubted they'd be left alive, a thin sliver of satisfaction at the thought that the Prime Minister wouldn't either.  
  
"Captain, are you all right?" A familiar feminine voice spoke above him.  
  
"T'Pol?"  
  
"Yes Captain. I thought you might need a hand." She offered a partial smile, kneeling down to face level.  
  
"Don't know why you would've thought that." He said, grinning through the pain wracking his head.  
  
"Where is she?" Captain Cran stood in the doorway, looking around the room, searching for the cause of all this mess.  
  
All eyes glanced around the room.  
  
"She was using the stealth device." Trip remembered.

Cran pulled a device off his utility belt, thumbing it on. He walked towards Reed, and knelt down. He reached into the air, and tapped something. Future's body appeared.  
  
"Is she alive?" Reed asked, looking at her still form.  
  
Cran nodded. "She needs medical attention."  
  
T'Pol stood, "As do our people. I suggest we reconvene on Enterprise."  
  
Cran viewed the devastation around him. "Yes. There's no point in keeping your people any longer." He looked at Archer for the first time, "For what it's worth Captain, I'm sorry."  
  
Archer debated his reaction. This alien had drugged him and his friends, kidnapped them, kept them locked up, leaving them ill for some time without the benefit of medical attention. He was the instrument of this entire debacle, yet could Archer begrudge him the events that had taken place? Desperation often gave birth to monsters, normal men who had never thought themselves capable of the actions they later commit. Archer realized that while Cran was apologetic, he was also resolute, if necessary; he would do it all over again.  
  
"Get us out of here." He ordered. He wanted to go home.


	11. Epilogue: Goodbyes

Epilogue

* * *

Goodbyes

* * *

"I'm bored." Archer complained. He had been staring at the ceiling for at least ten minutes.  
  
"You whine more than Porthos." Trip said from his bed next to Archer's. He was staring at the same ceiling.  
  
"You don't have to put up with that Captain, throw him in the brig." Reed piped up from his bed, next to Tucker's.  
  
Phlox walked in the room, exasperated, "If you three do not stop bickering I'll get out my Peruvian snails and give you something worth complaining about!"  
  
Archer huffed, "Fine." Under his breath, he added, "Porthos _doesn't_ whine."  
  
The glass doors of sickbay opened to admit T'Pol.  
  
"How are they doing Doctor?" She addressed Phlox.  
  
"_We_ are doing just fine." Tucker said loudly.  
  
T'Pol ignored him.  
  
"They're fine Sub-Commander, another day and they'll be released to their quarters." Phlox hoped _he_ would survive another 24 hours. His sanity was waltzing a thin line as it was.  
  
Archer waved for T'Pol, not bothering to sit. He knew he'd fall on his face if he tried. She approached his side.  
  
"Yes Captain?"  
  
"The conspirators, have they left?" He asked.  
  
"Not yet Captain, Future wishes to speak with you. I told her I would see if you were...up for it?" T'Pol asked, protective of Archer and wishing she could have told the conspirators to..._go take a hike.  
_  
Reed pushed himself up on an elbow, "Captain, you can't seriously consider...?"  
  
Trip agreed, "Cap'n, tell them to find the farthest planet in the farthest system from us, and plot a course."  
  
"Last I checked, _Captain_ means I get to make the decisions around here?" Archer said irritably. "Tell Future I will see her."  
  
T'Pol nodded. She would do as he requested, but she would not leave Archer, Reed and Tucker alone with this alien. She had lost them once she wouldn't do it again.

* * *

"Thank you for agreeing to see me Captain." Future stood at the foot of Archer's biobed where he was now propped on a pillow, so that he could see without having to sit upright.  
  
"We owe you our deepest gratitude." She said solemnly. "Unfortunately, we have done nothing to repay you, except cause trouble."  
  
Archer noticed the way she favored her right side, "Will you be all right?"  
  
"Yes, it was a...scratch." She smiled.  
  
She approached his bed. Trip and Malcolm tensed, T'Pol stepped forward. Archer waved them off. "What will you do?" Despite all these aliens had put them through, he felt compassion wind through his gut.  
  
"We will go to Relas V, and then we will disappear." She spoke quietly, her voice wistful.  
  
Archer felt his throat tighten, "Why do they call you Future?"  
  
"Because I am the future of our race. I am what our genetics is evolving into. Despite the ministry's attempt to eradicate this mutation in our race, it continues to happen. Every year more and more children like me are born. I am the only mutant to live into adulthood Captain...I am the future." She stated. Her eyes held his. "Thanks to your people, I _have_ a future."  
  
Archer looked away. Trip and Reed had resumed staring at the ceiling, pretending to not hear. T'Pol continued to watch impassively.  
  
"I'm sorry we couldn't do more." He finally said.  
  
"You did enough." Future stepped forward again, standing now very near Archer's chest. T'Pol tensed.  
  
Future leaned in, "Remember when you asked if Future was my real name?"  
  
Archer nodded.  
  
"I lied. Only my parents and myself knew my real name. Latt'an. It means 'flower' in my language." She bent down, and placed a light kiss on his forehead, a feathery caress that was removed before he had time to process her actions.  
  
"Goodbye Captain Archer, I will never forget what your people did for me."  
  
And then she was gone, walking out those doors before Archer could respond. Tucker began to grin.  
  
"I think she liked you Cap'n."  
  
Archer shot Tucker a dirty look, then looked at T'Pol. She was staring at him curiously.  
  
"I didn't do anything." He said exasperated, and refused to say or look at anyone else. The ceiling tile was pretty interesting after all.  
  
THE END! 


End file.
